You'll Get Yours
by BrodieBlue
Summary: One young, hot, blonde woman. One Dean Ambrose. A bar. Hmm I wonder where this will go ... This will contain D/s elements. Don't like, don't read.


**This is something a bit different from me but it will still contain some D/s elements. I'm dedicating this one to MissScarletInTheLibrary.**

* * *

Ciara playfully twisted a white pearl stud in her lob as she looked into Cal's chocolaty brown eyes and pretended that she was hanging off his every word.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know," he drawled.

She'd been told that he tried to hide his Texan accent but she didn't know why, her and the small group of colleagues she had made friends with at her law firm all agreed that it was one of his many charms. Cal was a handsome man, well groomed, polite, friendly, intelligent ... really, what more could anyone want in a man? However, she had at first been cautious to accept his invitation for a drink after work. She'd not long been with the firm or in this country and though she wanted to make friends, men were far from her mind. She didn't have time for romance, she had to stay focused. But the quiet way Cal had gone about trying to win her over for the last three months had been irresistible. He was such a sweet guy ... what was the harm in having just one drink with him? If anything did come of tonight, a quick sojourn now and then would be a welcome distraction from her hectic professional life anyway...

There was just one problem with Cal, he would not shut up about how he was going to help her get noticed in the firm by the people that mattered, like that was a way to get into her pants.

"Well, I'd like to think you'd recommend me based on my ability, not just because you like me," she answered him with an arched brow and sardonic smile.

"Of course! But it doesn't hurt your prospects to know whose opinion carries weight and whose doesn't," he then picked up his wine elegantly and took a small sip from it.

Ciara watched his soft lips mold to the glass and his clean shaven throat flex when he swallowed the cool liquid. It took her about half a minute to register what he had said and she couldn't help scowling when she repeated his words in her head. Had she even been listening to half of what he had been saying this evening or was she so wrapped up in the idea of him that every disagreeable thing he said went in one ear and out of the other?

"I'm sorry Ciara. I sound like a giant douche don't I?" he said when he noticed the look on her face.

Ciara nodded, smiling good naturedly when he laughed in a way that had become familiar to her.

"I know you'll make it on your own. I have faith in you, but I'll always keep an eye out for you," he said, then raised his glass to her. "To success? And fuck it, to living life to its fullest!"

"To success and living life to the full," she smiled back at him and clinked her glass against his. _This _was the Cal she knew.

The next ten minutes she passed in conversation with him were much more enjoyable. She just wanted to hear his funny stories; she didn't want to think about work. He was half way through telling her about the time he set his ear on fire when he was trying to light a barbeque when his phone rang. He glanced down at it where he had left it on the table beside his wine and Ciara noticed his face change. She tried to read whether he was happy to be receiving a call or not, but his expression was too guarded to tell.

"I should take this. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," she replied.

"I'm sorry."

Ciara waved her hand in dismissal; there was no need for him to be apologetic.

"Hey," he answered cautiously, to Ciara's ears. "... yeah ... with a friend ... a colleague."

The way he glanced at her and referred to her made her think her presence was stopping him from speaking freely. Sensing it was a conversation he would prefer to be having in private she excused herself to visit the restroom. Once in front of a mirror she examined her appearance critically. If this date, if you could call it that, was going where she thought it was right now and probably would if he needed to escape from whatever he was talking about on the phone, she needed to look a little less snappy. She pulled open the neck of her white wrap around blouse a little bit more to reveal the flirty white lace trim of the demure camisole she wore underneath it. Then she pulled loose a few tendrils of her light blonde hair that she had put up to frame her face. Finally, she reapplied her vamp red lipstick. She might as well flaunt it while she had it. After she felt like she had given him ample time to finish his phone call she walked back to their table with a fresh spring in her step, until she noticed that Cal was no longer sitting at that table. She knitted her brows together in confusion, perhaps she had got the wrong table, maybe the wine had got to her head, but that wasn't possible, she was drinking a small white wine spritzer. She frantically searched the bar then spotted him ... talking to another woman. _What?_

She froze on the spot and then perhaps Cal felt her eyes on the back of his head because he turned around to look at her. He waved and walked over to her, when Ciara looked at where the woman had been standing, she was already gone.

"Sorry about that," he said, putting his hand on the back of her waist and walking her to their table.

"Who was that woman?" she asked, but she received no answer.

She looked to him at her side and he was staring straight ahead, perhaps his mind was elsewhere and he hadn't heard her. Once they were sat down again she decided to try asking again, but she was interrupted by his phone ringing, yet again.

"Oh shit-sorry!"

Ciara held up her hand to excuse him.

"Yep ... Alright ... Yeah. Okay, I'm coming."

She couldn't conceal her displeasure at that.

"I'm so sorry," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing to her. "I've got to go. My neighbour that was dog sitting for me-"

"You have a dog?" she cut through him. She just wasn't in the mood for this bullshit, she had a feeling his sudden need to depart had something to do with that woman. And she thought things had been going so well ...

"Yeah. The dog has been sick, he's pining for me and you know it's just not right to leave them-"

"Goodbye Callum," she said frostily.

She thought she would see a flicker of guilt pass over his face but on the contrary he looked pleased that she'd given him a get out clause.

"Some other time Ciara, yes? This was great. I have to go though! Bye!"

Ciara sat staring at her spritzer in her hand for a moment, then she took a large gulp and stood up fast, scraping her chair back dramatically as she did. She followed him. Maybe she was a masochist, but she wanted to see for herself that he was a waste of time, air and space. She followed him to the entrance of the bar and once he was outside she leaned in the door way, in the shadows where she couldn't be seen. It was not really a shock to her to see him get into a little red sports car that had inconsiderately pulled up in the middle of the road, ostentatious like he and the driver were. How had she not seen that in him before? The driver was of course the woman she'd seen him with earlier. She stepped fully into the entrance now and stood with her arms folded, glaring at him. She hoped he saw her and felt ashamed because he should. She saw his eyes widen in horror when he furtively glanced back at the entrance but he quickly looked out of the driver's window again. _Well, what now?_ She wondered as she stood there, letting the cool evening air raise goose pimples on her arms. She was then jolted from her comatose like state by a soft tap on her arm. She spun around expecting to be politely told by a bartender to stop blocking the entrance, but she didn't get what she expected.

"Hey, don't think I'm a creep but I just saw what happened to you. Trust me, that guy must be an idiot. He's not worth looking all sad into the distance like that for."

Ciara just blinked at the man speaking to her, was she hallucinating? This guy was cute, very cute. He was wearing a casual white shirt, which had ties on it that pinned back the sleeves. It flattered his evenly tanned complexion very much. His hair was a sandy blonde colour and hung in soft waves over one eye. He was looking a bit too much of the casual in casual-smart for such a snazzy restaurant bar, but she liked that. He wasn't anywhere near as neat and well groomed as Cal either; he was in good need of a shave. But if his appearance hadn't interested her, his voice alone definitely would have. However, she remained cautious, he did seem nice and friendly, but so had Cal. He'd probably been watching her all night and had waited until she was vulnerable to hit on her.

"Hi, thank you. I ..." she was suddenly lost for words. An incredibly attractive man had just seen her get stood up. This guy felt _sorry _for her; that was humiliating. "I was about to leave myself actually," she fibbed to save face.

"Oh that's a bit of a bummer, erm I was wondering if you wanted to join me actually? I've been abandoned too, but er if you're going home that's okay ..."

He scratched the back of his head as he spoke and it was so disarmingly boyish for a man of his size. He towered over her, even in her high heels, and was much broader than her. Was she really going to pass up on having a drink with him? You had to grab opportunities when they came your way, she wasn't one to let things just slip through her hands.

"I can stay for one more drink, I'm in no rush. Why not?" she smiled at him.

"I seriously didn't think my sob story would work, guess I still have it!" he grinned. Did she spot dimples? Good god, she wondered what she had ever liked about Cal's smile that he clearly practiced in front of the mirror.

His cheeky sense of humour was pretty endearing too.

"Your dimples did it," she quipped.

"Only my dimples? What's there not to like? Wow, that sounded rusty ..."

Ciara couldn't help giggling, she'd only exchanged some quick banter with him and he'd already lightened her mood considerably.

"You're not so bad looking yourself by the way," he winked.

Ciara was used to men looking at her and attempting cringey come on's. It was refreshing to hear a man express his interest in her physical attributes without feeling awkward about it. So naturally, it made her blush and she was tongue tied again ... she thought he noticed because his smile widened.

"Can you walk and talk in those heels?" he asked, glancing down at her feet.

"I've had enough practice," Ciara replied.

"Let's elbow our way through the hordes then. You look like you'd be good at elbowing people out of the way."

"I can handle myself."

"I bet you can."

He threw another boardy wink at her then walked away.

"What are you drinking?" he asked when they reached the bar.

"Just a coke please."

She didn't think she needed a stiff drink to be able to kick back with this guy. He accepted her order without comment and ordered a beer for himself, he propped himself up on a stool and she did the same.

"I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name," he said to her as he handed the money over to the bartender. His bare forearms he was showing were such a tease to her; lightly haired and firm ... She made herself look away though.

She then dipped her hand into her handbag and pulled out the little metal case she kept her business cards in. She took one out with a flourish for him. She could have just told him her name but she was feeling devilish... She needed to have fun now more than ever.

"Oh what's this?" he asked, frowning but still smiling, "this looks like a mouthful."

Ciara smiled, awaiting his pronunciation of her name with mischievous glee.

"See-AIR-a," he pronounced it confidently, "that's a pretty name for a pretty girl."

He had chosen the wrong pronunciation, everybody did.

"Thanks. But it's pronounced KEE-ar-a, it's Irish. Not see-AIR-a like the singer."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and gave her this sort of stern look.

"You knew I'd pronounce that wrong didn't you?"

Ciara felt her heart give little palpitations and she was feeling warm. She bit her bottom lip and shrugged, she hoped it looked flirty and not like she was thinking things it was far too early to be thinking ...

"It's alright, everyone does. I admit I was looking forward to hearing your Yankee mangled pronunciation of my name."

He laughed and it sounded extremely dirty.

"I'm guessing you are from Ireland? I would have pegged you for somewhere Nordic to be honest. You got the light blonde hair and big blue eyes."

Ciara rolled those eyes for him.

"I've heard that before," she said in mock exasperation. "Can I ask your name?"

"Yeah I guess it would be nice if you knew my name too. It's not as pretty though. It's Dean. Nice to meet you," he smiled cheekily as he stuck out his hand.

She took his and marvelled at how small hers felt in his. His grip was firm and warm, that was good. She liked a man who gave a firm handshake.

"It suits you though," she said after some thought. It sounded so American somehow and to her, he was the ideal American boy.

"You think so? My last name is Ambrose. I think that suits me more. You know because ambrosia is the food and drink of the Gods, I look a bit like a Greek God, a Greek statue or something. No?"

She had to laugh.

"What are you talking about?"

"What?" He repeated back at her. "You don't agree?"

She eyed him up slowly, though she hadn't meant to. There _was_ so much to admire; the set of his shoulders, the way his shirt lay flat on his abdomen, yet concealed so much.

"I can't see under that shirt, so I can't say."

"Oh? Would you like to see?"

"Hmm maybe," Ciara said, twisting her mouth before raising her lips into a smile.

"Good things come to those who wait," he winked.

So it was a done deal already? Rather than answer Ciara took a sip of her coke.

"So that guy, were you on a date with him?" he then asked.

She thought changing the topic to Callum would sour her mood, but she actually wanted to talk about it.

"No, actually. But I took it that way. He just asked me out for a drink after work. In hindsight I see I shouldn't have took it as a date but usually when a guy has been flirting with you for weeks and he finally asks you out for a drink with just him, that counts as a first date right?"

She hadn't looked at him as the words tumbled out of her mouth. When she glanced up at him she felt reassured to see that he was nodding in agreement.

"Sure. You're not wrong, that's how men usually operate. What happened though? You looked like you were really into him. I couldn't help noticing."

He paused to give Ciara opportunity to fill him on the details, if she wanted to. When she chose not to he talked about something else and she liked that. There was nothing pushy about this man.

"I'm meant to be here with a friend but he found a lady, I think he's disappeared with her into the restroom ..."

"He sounds like a classy man."

"Oh he is. Very. He's not like me, he doesn't rescue damsels in distress," he winked.

Ciara wouldn't have smiled if she thought he really meant that.

"Thanks for not making me not feel like a loser tonight," she said awkwardly. He accepted the thanks without comment, perhaps knowing she wanted to say more. What was it about this man that was making her delve so deep inside herself?

"I'm not naive, I know that all some men are looking for is ... that." She swallowed then looked up at him through her long eyelashes; she was never usually so obvious. "But I don't mind. As long as they are upfront about it and don't waste my time."

He smiled slyly.

"Yes, some men are like that. And some women are too, don't you think?" his voice had lowered a little and his blue eyes darkened in their hue. "But assholes who mess you around will get what's coming to them. So will you."

Ciara felt her face heat up. She cleared her throat to straighten her thoughts out.

"I hope so too- I mean hope dishonest people will get what's coming to them," she quickly said to cover her slip up. She was quickly losing control of the direction of this conversation.

"Anyway, I rarely get to go out so it felt good to do something spontaneous. Even if it was just a drink after work," she said smoothly. That was a quick save...

"Nah I understand. Why don't you act on your spontaneous urges more?"

"I just don't have time for a social life anymore. Work takes up all of my time."

"That's a thought ... how did you end up in the States?"

"I studied here for a semester a few years ago and I found a really good opportunity through my university, I'd have been a fool to pass it up."

She remembered how hard it had been to come to a decision about it ...

"I imagine it was tough to leave your friends and family behind," he said softly.

Ciara nodded.

"I miss them a lot."

This was proving to be a strange night. She couldn't help feeling aroused just by this man's proximity to her but she was also feeling extremely pensive.

"So with everything on your plate, you don't need assholes like him."

"No I really don't."

"What you do for a living?"

"I'm a solicitor."

"You must be smart."

"Not very. I just worked hard," she shrugged.

She wondered if her answers were too short. She didn't want him to find her boring but she was glad to be having this conversation. _Let him do the talking_, she thought.

"You're being modest. You're beautiful and intelligent and modest," he said, ticking off these very flattering traits he had attributed to her on his long fingers, "what are your other virtues?"

"Wouldn't you rather hear about my vices?" she smiled.

She wasn't nearly as innocent as she looked ... He raised an eyebrow at her again.

"What kind of vices are we talking about? You don't seem like a bad girl. But then, it's always the quiet ones isn't it?"

He awaited her answer with a sexy smirk and Ciara tried to pull out a witticism whilst her mind was awash with how much she liked this line of talk, but was saved when they both heard a cataclysmic crash. Dean suddenly twisted about and Ciara looked on to see a man emerge from the men's restroom next to the bar. He was being dragged by his collar by a bouncer and a young woman was following sheepishly behind them. Evidently Dean recognised the man because his eyes widened and zoned in on him. That must have been his classy friend. Dean jumped up from his bar stool and walked to them.

"Wait! That's my friend. I'll sort him out."

The bouncer let go of his shirt and carelessly allowed him to trip into Dean's waiting arms.

"You can stay but he's got to go. Get him outta here or I will," the bouncer grunted and went back to stalking the floor.

Ciara tried not to sigh too loudly. But anyone could see her deflation was a clear sign of her disappointment. Was it going to happen twice in one night? Was she that lucky?

"I better see him into a cab," Dean said but he didn't look as disappointed as Ciara felt. That just made her feel worse.

"Do you want to come with? We could carry on to mine? I'm not suggesting any funny business, I promise, but it would be nice to continue this. The offer is there. Or if you give me your number we could hook up some time ..."

His speech turned into a mumbled ramble and he diverted his eyes from her, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why don't we have a drink at mine?" Ciara suddenly piped up.

He looked like he could hardly believe his luck that she had made such an offer.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. If you're up for it."

It felt right.

"_Am I up for it? _Yes," he said firmly.

He caught his bottom lip in his teeth and she wondered how soft and supple those lips would feel on her tonight. _If _things went that way.

"Dean ... where'd she go?"

They both looked at the third wheel and it did appear he had been stood up too. Dean grabbed his shoulders.

"You lead the way Miss Ireland."

Sure, his compliments were cheesy but they made her feel good about being who she truly was for the first time tonight. She hailed one of the awaiting cabs outside and once Dean bundled his friend in she got in behind them. She didn't know whether or how to continue conversation now they were beside each other in the back of a cab, heading to her place.

She watched him relax his hand on his right thigh and was struck not only by how big they were but how elegant they looked. Maybe she would feel those hands on her, his long fingers _inside _her, she had no idea her evening would end up like this ...

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Perhaps she had been staring at his hands for too long. He reached out to clasp her hand that lay limp by her side. She squeezed his hand and found comfort as well arousal in the feel of it.

"Just left here," Dean said to the cab driver.

Then his drunk friend made his exit and left the naughty backseat to the two of them. Dean's hand slipped from her grasp and he placed it heavily on her thigh. They didn't need to say anything else to each other for the rest of the journey.

* * *

Once the cab reached Ciara's apartment the tables had been turned again. Now it was up to her to make the moves. She showed him into her modest apartment and pointed out every room to him without knowing why.

"Can I get you a drink?" she asked after inviting him to sit on her couch.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

The truth was she didn't want a drink, but it seemed like the right thing to do. She chose a bottle of wine she'd been saving for a house warming that she had no idea when she would get around to organising. Now seemed as good a time as any to drink it.

She did not have eyes in the back of her head but she was conscious of him watching her. When she turned he gave her an easy smile and he took the glass from her hand with thanks. As she sat beside him he took a sip then she turned her face to him to see him grimace.

"I should have said anything but wine. My tastes haven't changed with maturity."

She wondered if she should consider him rude but she couldn't; he pulled the funniest faces.

"You don't look over the hill ... yet," Ciara said then took a sip from her glass before setting it down on the coffee table in front of them.

"Hey, hey cheeky! I'm not even thirty yet!"

"That suggests you're closer to thirty than twenty though. How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight."

"Getting on," Ciara smirked.

"I bet you're not that far behind me, at least I fucking hope not!"

She imagined he was someone who swore a lot but it appeared he'd been trying not to and that was kind of cute.

"I'm twenty-five."

"That's a good age. Do you have a thing for older guys?" he winked.

"Well if I did you wouldn't fall into that category."

"What about him?" he asked, nodding to the screen.

She'd hardly been paying attention to what had been on the television when she had turned it on to provide background noise, it was some movie starring a greying but still good looking actor, by the looks of it.

"Silver foxes? Not my thing right now but maybe they will be when I'm of a similar age, who knows?"

His placed his hand back on her thigh again and was trailing it closer to her most intimate parts. She parted her legs slightly, encouraging him to continue and he did. The feeling of his warm heavy hand made that part of her feel hot. She wanted this, now was the time ...

"I've not done this in a long time," she suddenly blurted out.

He left his hand where it was.

"That's okay," he said reassuringly.

She sighed heavily and glanced at him at her side again.

"It's okay," he reassured her again. "I'm not expecting anything. If you feel nervous or you've changed your mind, it's cool-"

"No. I really want to do it."

She was struggling to find the words. She wasn't even sure why she felt the need to explain herself to this stranger. But being raw about her feelings was akin to having a weight lifted off her shoulders.

"But I don't want it to feel empty. I really miss feeling a deep human connection but I don't want a boyfriend. I don't have time for that. I have to stay focused."

He listened then he spoke calmly and quietly.

"You're never this open with anyone are you?"

"No," she said with a tired laugh.

"I want you too Ciara. I'll give you what you need if you can trust me. Can you do that?"

She looked at this stranger, her logical mind told her she should not trust a man she had only just met tonight but he had honest eyes. Eyes never lied.


End file.
